Author: Greg Staggs
The question probably came from as far out of left field as she would have ever expected. It was more of a statement, actually.
“I grew up hunting. I bowhunt. I’m going to have mounted animals in my house. I’m not saying this relationship will ever get to that point…” I trailed off. Then I picked back up again, diving full-steam ahead. No sense in stopping now. “But if it ever does,” I began again, “Is that going to be a problem?”
She thought for the briefest of moments before giving her answer. “As long as you don’t put them in the bedroom, bathroom or the kitchen.” I paused just as briefly. “Fair enough,” I answered before we both started scanning our menus in prelude to the meal on our first date.
It had been the second question of the night for my future wife, right after the one asking when she wanted to have kids. We were both a bit older: She had been in the work force for a while and I was in my last year of graduate school. We had both been in enough relationships to know what we didn’t want, and neither one of us danced around issues important to us. We dove headlong into a beautiful relationship that after 24 years of marriage and counting has continued to provide me with the most supportive bowhunting spouse who doesn’t hunt that I could have ever hoped for.